


The Labyrinth

by tumblingStar



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga, Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Greed's a chimera for this, I stole it from my rp partner they came up with it bc it sounds like "avarice", Multi, and his hair is a little longer to match better with the faerie king vibe im aiming for, and was like i think ive stumbled across our chimera king, bc we both were like GREED W/ LONG HAIR, but yeah he has a real name and it's Rhys, dw his hair gets short again at the very end, he's also not called Greed, my friend showed me a gif of some vampire from a movie called Lost Boys, no one asked for this except me, you ever just mix your current hyperfixation with happy childhood memories? because I do
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:28:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27145225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tumblingStar/pseuds/tumblingStar
Summary: Ling Yao is a college student working overtime to provide for his baby half-sister, since he legally isn't allowed to see even a cent of his inheritance until he's twenty-five. But babies take a lot of time and hard work, and Ling had never prepared for this. Suddenly, he learns that saying things you never meant to can have grave consequences—especially when you've caught the eye of someone powerful, determined, and greedy.Otherwise knows as: the Jim Henson'sLabyrinth/FMAB crossover AU that literally no one asked for but me! Included is: Chimera Lan Fan, Ed, and Al! Stuffed Animal Xiao Mei! A blatant self-insert! Greed with Long Hair and a Real Name! An More!
Relationships: Edward Elric & Ling Yao, Greed/Ling Yao, Greed/Ling Yao/Original Character(s), Lan Fan & Ling Yao, Ling Yao & Mei Chang, Ling Yao/Original Character(s), Platonic Lingfan
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	The Labyrinth

Mei hadn’t stopped crying since the instant Ling had taken her stuffed animal. He wouldn’t have taken it if he’d had a choice, but she’d thrown up on it, and it had to be cleaned. The wash cycle was nearly over, but there was still an entire dry cycle he had to put it through before he could give it back to her. 

Mei was Ling’s half-sister, and he was her legal guardian. He’d been thrust into the role of “father” the year before, when his own died of old age. His stepmother, who had been all of two years older than him, had died in childbirth just six months before that. So now he went to college, he worked, and he took care of Mei all on his own. 

(It would have been easier to take care of her if he were allowed to access his inheritance at all, he knew, but it had been written into his father’s will that Ling couldn’t touch a cent of it until he was twenty five. He had four years to go, and he wasn’t struggling terribly, but it was difficult some months, between student loans and rent and paying Mei’s babysitter.) 

And Mei refused to stop sobbing. 

He held her. He rocked her. He tried substituting Xiao Mei with any of her other toys and stuffed animals, but she was having none of it. He changed her diaper, he gave her a bath—which she usually loved, with all the bubbles—but she was sticking to her guns on this. She wanted her panda. Nothing else would satiate her. 

Eventually Ling decided, _fuck it_ , he was putting her to bed whether she was crying or not. He changed her into her pajamas and sat her down in his lap, pulling a book from her section of the bookshelf at random. 

“Once upon a time,” he read, and her quiet continued noises of displeasure rose again to screams of rage. Ling continued, determined to keep up with her routine. It would have been at this point that he would have worried she was sick, if he hadn’t taken her temperature right after she threw up and known for a fact that she was fine. “Once upon a time, there was a girl who’s aunt was very mean to her. The aunt had hated the girl’s mother, and so she would refuse to feed her, or comfort her when she was scared.” 

Ling didn’t remember buying this book for Mei. He was certain he’d never read it to her before, either, and he’d read every book on this shelf. The illustrations were far more elaborate than a children’s book usually were, but he didn’t spend too much time studying it with Mei shrieking in his ear. He turned the page. 

“The girl ran away one day, and her life did not get any easier. With no money, she couldn’t buy any food, or clothes, or a house, and the people on the streets were only slightly nicer than her aunt had been.” 

Mei grabbed a fistful of his hair from his scalp and _pulled_. Ling hissed through his teeth, gently unwrapped her fingers from strands of hair, and looked her firmly in the eye. “No.” 

Mei shrieked in response. 

Ling turned the page. “But what no one knew was that the King of the Chimeras had fallen in love with the girl, and he had granted her certain powers. So one night, when the winter wind bit especially cold, and the girl shivered under her thin blanket and whispered, ‘I want to be safe and comfortable all the rest of my days,’ he appeared before her.” 

Oh, another fairy tale. This one was still unfamiliar to Ling, but it didn’t seem like something he wouldn’t have bought. Mei loved fairy tales, so he took any opportunity he had to get her more. He supposed he’d just… forgotten about this one. 

“‘I have been watching you,’ the Chimera King told her. ‘I have seen your kind heart and the cruel lot your life has given you. You want comfort and safety for all your days. I want your company. If you would like, I will take you to my castle in the land of the—’ _ow!_ Damn it, Mei!” Ling caught her hand, again pulling at his hair, and when he was good and distracted with trying to make her let go without hurting her, she knocked the book from his hand. It tumbled page-down onto the floor, where Ling paid it no mind as he stood up from the worn old armchair and carried Mei, still fighting and crying, to her crib. He laid her down on her back, ignoring when she kicked off the blanket he laid over her and threw away the stuffed rabbit he put beside her. When he turned to walk away, rewinding her music box, she cried louder, and when he looked back at her from the doorway before he left she was standing up in the crib, clinging onto the bars, crying directly at him. 

“I _know_ you want Xiao Mei.” he told her. He could hear his own fatigue in his voice. 

He’d never prepared for this. Never imagined being father and mother to the daughter of a woman he barely knew and didn’t particularly like. He wished things had been different. He loved her—with every inch of him, he loved her, like she was his own child—but he was _tired_. He had schoolwork to worry about. He had bills to pay. He knew she didn’t understand the concept of a washing machine yet, or things being dirty and needing to be washed, or even just patience, and he felt guilty for holding her tantrum against her, but—for fuck’s sake. It was just a toy panda. She was going to dehydrate herself crying herself to sleep and he’d have to miss class the next day to care for her properly—he wouldn’t trust the babysitter to make sure Mei drank enough fluids. 

There were a thousand things Ling wanted to say that Mei wouldn’t understand yet. What came out of his mouth was, “I want you not to be my responsibility anymore.” 

He closed the bedroom door behind him, and immediate unease latched to his very bones. 

_Mei had stopped crying._

Ling couldn’t hear her at all. Not _the-door-muffled-her-noises_ couldn’t hear her; the music box was still playing. He heard it clearly enough. But Mei’s crying had stopped the instant the door latched, like someone flipped a switch. 

If someone were to fake crying, that would be possible. Mei was just over a year old. There was no such thing as “fake crying” for her. 

Ling opened the door again. Mei wasn’t standing at the bars of her crib anymore. In fact, the crib looked empty. 

“Mei?” he asked, knowing how ridiculous it was to call out for a baby who couldn't speak yet. He took a tentative step into the room, and then berated himself for being afraid when Mei possibly needed him and went quickly to her crib. 

Empty. Just like he’d thought. 

_Something was very wrong._

“Mei?!” he whirled around, scanning the room for any sign of her. Any sign that someone had been here. Any sign of _anything._

A laugh from the corner of the room melted into a snakey hiss—but when Ling’s head snapped to the side to investigate, there was no one there. 

Was he losing his mind? 

Various animal noises started coming from different parts of the room—a dog’s bark from inside of the closet turning into a gruff voice saying something Ling couldn’t quite catch before a growl of a bull echoed from somewhere near the bed. Something lizard-like scrabbled across the wall in the corner of Ling’s vision, but looking directly produced, again, nothing. 

The door to the bedroom slammed shut. This time when Ling turned on his heel, he saw someone—and he took a fighting stance. 

The man leaned against the closed door, grinning widely. He was handsome—that, Ling would admit. His hair was dark black, layered _almost_ like a grown-out mullet, but the longest parts spilled over his shoulders. His eyes were a mesmerizing shade of amethyst, narrowed by the force of his cocksure smile, and his teeth were shiny, white, and fanged. He wore black jeans—ripped at the knees by use and not machine, scuffed black boots, and a leather jacket that was well enough worn that it had to be genuine. Around his neck was a thick necklace of twine, various objects woven seemingly haphazardly into it; stones and animal teeth and even a skeleton key. He wore no shirt, but rings and decorated his fingers, glinting in the illumination of the winter moonlight from the window. His nails were claws, dark black and glossy, like they’d been painted. Ling was suddenly aware that the music box had stopped. 

The stranger said, in a voice that was low and loud and accustomed to being obeyed, “Are you looking for something, Ling Yao?” 

Ling’s own voice was thick with threat when he responded. “What did you do with my sister?” 

The stranger's grin widened, like he was genuinely pleased with Ling’s response. “You wanted her out of your hair. She’s not your responsibility anymore.” 

Ling didn’t know how this man knew he'd asked for that. He just knew he needed Mei back. “I didn’t mean it!” 

“Words have power, you know?” The man cocked an eyebrow. “You shouldn’t have said it if you didn’t mean it.” 

“Where is Mei?!” 

The man uncrossed his arms, shoving his hands into his pockets as he drew closure to Ling at a leisurely pace. “At my palace, the Devil’s Nest.” 

“What the _fuck_ are you talking about?” Ling spat. 

“You read the book, didn’t you?” The man pulled a hand from his pocket, gesturing towards the storybook Ling had been reading to Mei just minutes before. He’d forgotten about it, left it on the ground. The book flew to the man’s hand, making Ling jump and take a step back, though the stranger was unphased, and picked up where Ling left off. “‘If you would like, I will take you to my castle in the land of the chimeras. It’s an in-between place for we in-between people, for outcasts and those unwanted.’ The girl agreed, and before she could blink, she was in a magnificent castle called the Devil’s Nest, where the Chimera King and his closest friends lived.” 

It was unbelievable. It was just a story. Chimeras didn’t exist. Mei couldn’t have been magicked away by this man before Ling, because magic wasn’t real. None of this was happening. But there was no other explanation. Ling would have known if this man had been in his room the whole time—there wasn’t anywhere to hide in the small apartment. Even if he’d snatched Mei, she wouldn’t have just… stopped crying like that. 

Squaring his shoulders and straightening his spine, Ling stepped close to the man. “Give my sister back to me.” 

“I would love to.” The man—no, the _Chimera King_ replied, nearly a head taller than Ling without even trying to tower over him. “Nothing would make me happier than to assume that you’ve learned your lesson and tuck her into bed right here where she belongs. But things once done, are not easily _undone_. If you want to reunite with Mei Chang, you have to get her yourself.” 

Ling met his eyes with unflinching determination. “What do I have to do?” 

The Chimera King’s grin took on a note of pride. He took Ling by the shoulders, turned him around, and Ling was no longer in the bedroom he shared with his infant sister, but beneath a half-grown, half-dead tree on top of a hill in an arid climate. The desert-dirt glittered like bits of crystal mingled with the red soil, and stretched before and below the hill was a distant labyrinth of red-tan stone. It looked like it spanned miles, and Ling could see a city of some sort in the wide center, and if he squinted, he could make out a castle of gray stone in the middle of that city. 

“That’s where she is?” He asked as the King draped himself over Ling’s shoulders, overly familiar and overly affectionate. Ling bristled a little, but ultimately did not refuse the touch. 

“Safe and sound.” The King purred into his ear. “All you have to do is make your way through my Labyrinth, navigate my City, infiltrate my Nest, and she’ll be back in the arms of Big Brother. There’s a catch, though.” 

Ling snorted. “Of course there is.” 

“You’ve got twelve hours.” The King withdrew from Ling’s form, and when Ling turned to look at him he was seated on one of the lower branches of the tree. “Every human who spends more than twelve hours in this realm becomes a chimera theirself, and the process is irreversible. If you want your baby back one hundred percent human, you’ve got to get to her before twelve hours pass.” 

Ling looked back at the labyrinth, the sprawling expanse of it, the city, the castle. He took a breath, squared his shoulders, and nodded. “It’s doable.” 

The grin was audible in the Chimera King’s voice without even glancing his way. “That’s what I like to hear. There’s no such thing as ‘no such thing,’ is there? Good luck, kid.” 

He didn’t have to turn around to tell that the King was gone. Steel-willed, Ling set off down the hill.


End file.
